


lock the windows, bar the doors

by ShowMeAHero



Series: are you bad at keeping secrets, too? [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coitus Interruptus, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “Not that I’ve got anything against it,” Luke manages to say, as Han kicks the garage's office door shut. “But what’re you doing down here in the middle of the day?”Han crosses the room to Luke, cupping his face in his hand, his chin nestled in his palm. After a moment where Han just studies his face and Luke’s heart pounds in anticipation, Han drops his head and kisses him hard. Luke can’t help but moan softly, his grease-stained hands coming up to wrap in Han’s jacket. Han grins against his mouth.“I see,” Luke says, when Han pulls away again.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: are you bad at keeping secrets, too? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664116
Comments: 7
Kudos: 225





	lock the windows, bar the doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carasynthias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carasynthias/gifts).



> For [carasynthias](https://twitter.com/carasynthias)! Five times Han and Luke got interrupted (plus one bonus time they didn't).

**_1._ **

Han likes to come visit Luke at the garage he works at, sometimes. He tells Luke that it’s because he wants to make sure he’s keeping out of trouble, but Luke thinks he might have some ulterior motives. Mostly, he thinks he’s onto something, because whenever Han shows up, it’s to press Luke into a wall and kiss him. Today’s no exception; Luke’s glad for it.

“Not that I’ve got anything against it,” Luke manages to say, as Han kicks the door shut to the back office Luke shares with the other employees of the place. “But what’re you doing down here in the middle of the day?”

Han crosses the room to Luke, cupping his face in his hand, his chin nestled in his palm. After a moment where Han just studies his face and Luke’s heart pounds in anticipation, Han drops his head and kisses him hard. Luke can’t help but moan softly, his grease-stained hands coming up to wrap in Han’s jacket. Han grins against his mouth.

“I see,” Luke says, when Han pulls away again. Han scoops Luke up and deposits him on the desk he uses for account records, fitting himself between Luke’s knees.  _ “I  _ see what’s going on here.”

“Do you?” Han asks.

“I do,” Luke replies. He smiles, then tips his head back when Han ducks down to suck a kiss into his throat.

“And what’s going on here?” Han asks, murmuring against Luke’s skin.

“You’re trying to take advantage of me,” Luke says. Han huffs a laugh, warm breath spreading down Luke’s back. He shivers.

“Maybe I am,” Han replies. His voice rumbles in his chest, where he and Luke are now pressed together, and Luke can’t help but tighten his grip on Han’s jacket.

“What are you—” Luke starts to ask, but then there’s a sharp knock at the office door. Han leaps away from him like he’s been burned, and Luke nearly falls forward and smashes his head into the floor, his hands still tangled in Han’s jacket. Han catches him with a palm flat against his face, shoving him backwards; he nearly tips back over the desk.

“One second!” Han shouts to the door. He lurches forward and grabs Luke by his sweaty, oil-stained t-shirt, yanking him back up. “Jesus Christ, kid, stop trying to brain yourself.”

“It’s not on fucking purpose,” Luke hisses. He hops off the desk and pushes Han aside to open the door. There’s an unfamiliar man on the other side. “Hi, I’m so sorry, can I help you?”

“Yeah, my engine’s making a like, burning smell?” the guy says. Disappointment rolls through Luke’s chest as he turns back to Han.

“I’m gonna—” Luke says, then motions to the guy. Han waves him off.

“Go, go,” Han says. He takes the desk chair, kicking his feet up onto the desktop in front of him. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Luke rolls his eyes, smiling before he leaves.

* * *

**_2._ **

It’s been taking longer than it normally would, for Luke to get his bachelor’s degree. He didn’t get as many scholarships as Leia, so he’s got to work his way through school, but it’ll be  _ worth it  _ when he gets to teach first grade like he wants to. To make room for his shifts, though, he can only take a couple of classes a semester. The whole thing is made a little bit easier by the fact that Han doesn’t mind giving him rides to class.

Han also doesn’t mind getting him to class twenty minutes early, or following him up to his classroom, or pinning him to one of the tables  _ in  _ the classroom when he finds out the room is completely empty. Luke’s still got his messenger bag strapped on and his jacket is still zipped, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Han.

“C’mon,” Luke murmurs quietly. Han slides his hands up under Luke’s jacket and the shirt he’s got on underneath it, palms sliding across his skin. Luke sighs, tipping his head forward to let Han kiss him again.

“What’d you mean,  _ c’mon?”  _ Han asks. Luke smiles as Han kisses across his cheek, up to his temple, then across to the space between his eyebrows.  _ “You’re  _ the one who’s always coming after me.”

“Oh, in what way was I  _ coming after you?”  _ Luke asks incredulously. Han raises an eyebrow, his hands coming together over Luke’s chest. He tweaks one of his nipples, and Luke inhales sharply, a high noise slipping from his throat as he jerks in Han’s hands.

“Just looking the way you do,” Han tells him. “Acting like you do. Coming for the  _ throat.” _

“Oh, yeah?” Luke asks. Han nods. “You’re asking for it now, buddy.”

“I sure am,” Han agrees before kissing him again. Luke responds in kind, wrapping his hands up in Han’s shirt before he slides them up to tangle in his hair instead.

In the next instant, Luke feels more than sees the classroom door banging open and slamming into the wall. It reverberates through his chest, and he jumps so hard he bites down on Han’s lower lip; it’s enough that Han yelps, jumping back.

“Oh, sorry, I thought we had a class today,” Alana Wilkes says tensely in the doorway. Luke motions her forward as Han holds his bleeding lip.

“We do, I’m sorry, we just— I got here early and I— I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Luke groans, embarrassed, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s fine,” Alana says. She skirts around the edge of the room to sit at the table furthest to the back wall, though, which Luke totally gets. When he looks back to Han, he’s met with a scowl.

“Sorry,” Luke tells him quietly. Han waves him off.

“I’ll press charges later,” Han says. Luke laughs as Han says, “See you after class?”

“See you,” Luke agrees, and Han goes.

* * *

**_3._ **

Luke’s not a huge partier by nature. He prefers gatherings that are more along the lines of a dozen or so people drinking beers and playing games together, as opposed to the big blowouts that Han and Leia seem to enjoy so much. It’s part of the college experience, they tell him, even if he doesn’t actually live on campus; he doesn’t mind the parties all the much, though, anyways. Especially when he knows people there —  _ those _ parties can be fun for a little while.

Han had told him earlier that day that he’d be at this party, which is at the house of somebody Luke doesn’t know but Leia does and Han somehow does separately from her. He was told he was welcome, so he came, and now he’s been spending the last twenty minutes in some stranger’s guest room, letting Han strip his shirt off over his head and press open-mouthed kisses all the way down Luke’s chest to his navel.

“Fuck,” Han murmurs, his forehead touching Luke’s belly for a moment before he lifts his head again. “You know what you look like like this?”

“Uh-uh,” Luke says, with a brief shake of his head. Han grabs him by the hips and jerks him down the bed a bit, grinning down at him with his big hands wrapped around Luke’s thighs. Luke can’t help but smile back, flushed and turned on and pleased with himself. “What do I look like?”

“You look fucking delicious,” Han tells him. He bites into the juncture of Luke’s shoulder and his throat, the muscle and the hot flesh; Luke can only shiver as Han keeps biting kisses into his skin all the way to the dip below his throat. “Like I wanna eat you.”

“Like you wanna—” Luke starts to repeat, to ask, inflection changed, tone up,  _ please eat me, please take me in your mouth,  _ but then somebody’s banging on the guest room door.

“Luke, are you still in there?” Leia shouts through the door. He and Han had come in separately, earlier, and apparently it was enough to avoid Han being seen by her, but not enough for Luke to have completely avoided her eyes.

“Yeah, I just— I wasn’t feeling good, gimme a sec,” Luke calls back, sounding choked even to his own ears. Han laughs, muffled by Luke’s skin when he drops his head to bury the sound in his hip.

“Let me in, I’ll help you,” Leia instructs him through the door.

“No, I’m— I’m really good,” Luke shouts to her. “Just— Just gimme a second!”

“Luke, you let me in right now or I’ll come in on my own,” Leia orders. Luke can tell she’s serious, so he shoves Han up and off of him before getting to his feet.

“Come  _ on,”  _ Han says. It’s a token protest; they both know Luke has to go. Luke still hesitates, and Han still waves him off, like the outcome is going to be any different this time.

Turns out, tragically, that Luke takes too long to get to the door, and Leia must use one of the bobby pins from her hair to pick the lock on the door. She throws it open to see Luke and Han inside — Han sprawled across the guest bed, Luke standing with his shirt off and his hair a disheveled mess — and she just  _ sighs. _

“Get yourselves together and come downstairs,” Leia tells them. “I don’t know if you remembered but you’re my ride, big brother.”

“I’m the  _ big brother  _ by, like, a minute and a half,” Luke reminds her. He grabs his shirt and tugs it back on; his jacket hits him in the face, then, and he smacks it away, scowling at Han. Han just links his fingers behind his head and leans back into the pillows.

“You’d better drive the princess home, Jeeves,” Han says. Luke picks up one of the throw pillows they’d kicked to the floor and flings it at Han’s face.

“We  _ both  _ have exams tomorrow,” Leia reminds him, already blowing past  _ impatient.  _ Luke just rolls his eyes and shoves his feet back into his boots.

“I’m gonna ruin  _ every  _ date you go on,” Luke hisses at her. She rolls her eyes and grabs him by his collar to drag him out of the room. Luke waves at Han before he’s out of eyesight and gets a smug little wave and a smirk back in exchange for his efforts The memory of it leaves Luke feeling prickly for the rest of the night and through the next day, even through his exam.

* * *

**_4._ **

Luke has spent the better part of an hour making absolutely  _ certain  _ that nobody is home. Not only that, he’s ascertained that nobody  _ will  _ be home for the foreseeable future. Leia’s at work until late that night, Anakin and Padme are away for the night, Obi-Wan’s out of town— They should be all set. In theory, there should be nobody to interrupt them.

In practice, Luke knows that isn’t always the case, and so he also locks all the windows and doors before Han comes over. When he hears Han’s key in the lock, he arranges himself as artfully as he can on the sofa, waiting for him to come in.

When Han tries to open the door, it sticks with the wet weather and the humidity outside; he needs to shove it open with his shoulder to get inside. When he does, though, Luke is splayed across the sofa, waiting for him to come in. Han grins at him, kicking the front door shut behind himself.

“To what do I owe the honor?” Han asks. Luke grins at him, then starts laughing delightedly as Han runs to him and climbs over him on the sofa, still wearing his boots and his jacket as he kisses Luke into the cushions, his big hands framing Luke’s face. Luke just smiles into it, clinging to Han’s wrists until he pulls away.

“Nobody’s home,” Luke tells him. Han kisses along his cheekbone, pausing near the shell of Luke’s ear.

“Nobody?” Han asks, his lips brushing the thin skin there. Luke shivers and shakes his head. “Not a soul?”

“None,” Luke assures him breathlessly.

“Not your sister?” Han asks. Luke shakes his head again, frantic. “Not your parents, not your uncle, not some long-lost family friend who’s gonna come out of the woodwork and—”

“No,  _ no,”  _ Luke cuts him off, laughing. Han stands up again to quickly strip off his jacket.

“Good,” Han tells him. He kicks off his boots without unlacing them, then tugs his shirt up and off, over his head. Luke’s mouth goes dry, watching him move so quickly, the strong lines of muscle underneath his shirt, the way his wet hair was dripping down the angles of his face.

“Good?” Luke echoes. Han tugs his pants down and off, getting stuck momentarily in the damp denim, but he manages to strip them off and toss them aside before climbing back up and over Luke. In preparation for this, Luke’s wearing only a tank top and a pair of shorts, and he can feel Han’s skin nearly everywhere on his, pressed tight and close to him.

“Very good,” Han assures him. He kisses Luke again, then yelps and falls over. Luke sits up, bewildered for a brief moment, before he realizes Artoo has jumped up on the armchair and launched himself from the arm of it onto the arm of the sofa and knocked Han over in the process. He goes right over onto the floor, the dog on top of him, licking excitedly at his face as he realizes who’s visiting.

“Well, I guess there was  _ somebody  _ home,” Luke allows. Han glares up at him from the floor before he has to squint his eyes shut to avoid the dog licking them.

* * *

**_5._ **

When Luke’s stirring the pot of pasta on the stove, he feels large, warm hands slide over his shoulders. He smiles, leaning in to the touch as it slips down his arms, then shifts to his waist. Han kisses behind his ear, then bites at his earlobe.

“My whole family’s in the other room,” Luke says under his breath, trying to keep quiet. Han grips his hips, pressing them close together there until Luke can feel the hard line of his cock pressing into his ass. He half-turns, but Han has him pinned so he can’t move. Instead, he just keeps stirring his pasta. Han bites his throat.  _ “Han.” _

_ “What?”  _ Han asks, perfectly mimicking his tone. Luke turns his head slightly; Han kisses the line of his jaw. “Your whole family is  _ always  _ in the other room. You should all probably look into therapy for separation anxiety or something, actually, you’re a bunch of loony t—”

“Shut up,” Luke laughs. He can feel the shape of Han’s smile when it presses into the line of his throat again. The familiar sound of Obi-Wan clearing his throat startles them apart again, and Han nearly rockets to the refrigerator before letting out a groan and covering his face with his hands.

“How  _ embarrassing,”  _ Obi-Wan comments, with obvious glee in his voice. Luke knows his face is flaming as he turns to look at him sheepishly. The tragic thing is, he’s not alone, because Anakin’s right beside him. His face has gone a bit pink, too, but he’s grinning just as much as Obi-Wan is, when they make eye contact. “Caught in such a compromising position. Thank goodness your father wasn’t here to— Oh, but  _ wait,”  _ Obi-Wan says, gasping like he’s only just figured something out as he turns to Anakin. “Here he is!”

“Shut  _ up,  _ Uncle Ben,” Luke whines. “I didn’t think you’d—”

“—Come into our own kitchen while we’re cooking dinner?” Anakin finishes for him. Luke feels his face get even hotter as he returns his attention to the pasta boiling in front of him. “How strange of us.”

“What freaks we must seem,” Obi-Wan adds. Luke hears them both start laughing. After a beat, a hand claps down on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anakin tells him, too close. “Once, I was making out with someone, and their dad walked in halfway through.”

“Mom?” Luke asks. Anakin pats his back, then walks away.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Anakin says. As he passes Han, he says, “Now, you. Stop pawing at my son while you’re under my roof.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Han says. Luke can hear the smile in his voice as Anakin and Obi-Wan leave the kitchen again. Then, Han’s warmth is close behind him once more. “Then I guess I’ll have to bring you under  _ my  _ roof, hm?”

Luke nods. Han kisses his cheek again, than smacks him on the ass before going to get the butter dish and bring it out to the table.

* * *

**_+1._ **

Luke makes sure that every single window is locked, blinds down and closed, shades drawn over them. He makes sure that every door is locked, front and back both, including Han’s bedroom door. When Han slinks over him in bed, there’s nobody there to interrupt them. There’s no  _ chance  _ anyone will interrupt them. Nobody has a key to Han’s place except for Luke, and it’s in his bag; nobody’s coming. Nobody will bother them. They’re completely alone.

Han pins Luke to his bed, strips his clothes off methodically, piece by piece. When he has Luke down to his boxer-briefs in front of him, he bows his head and bites at his hip, then kisses the dip in the muscle there. One hand is wrapped tight around Luke’s ankle, pushing his leg to bend it up. Luke groans as the fingers of Han’s other hand dip below the waistband of his underwear, pulling at the fabric.

“There we go,” Han says. He tugs his boxer-briefs off and tosses them aside before finally taking in all of Luke, naked and waiting on Han’s sheets. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, excited and turned on and filled with desire, ready to reach out and finally  _ touch. _

Han drops his head, kisses the exposed skin as he’s exposing it.

“I think we’re alone now,” Han murmurs. Luke laughs, tangling his hands up in Han’s hair.

“I think so,” he agrees. Han grins at him, wicked,  _ delighted,  _ before taking Luke into his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicolelianesolo) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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